Potter, Potter
by My Goddess
Summary: Summery: Harry’s twenty-three and living in a world where the Dark Lord is gaining power. Things have changed over the years for better and for worst. Harry is now looked to by many people to defeat the Dark Lord once more. Will he once again bring peac
1. Remembrances

My Goddess  
  
Potter, Potter  
  
Chapter One: Remembrances  
  
Summery: Harry's twenty-three and living in a world where the Dark Lord is gaining power. Things have changed over the years for better and for worst. Harry is now looked to by many people to defeat the Dark Lord once more. Will he once again bring peace to the Magic World? Or will something, or someone, get in his way?  
  
A/N: This is my first attempt at a Stephen King-type writing style. If you have not read any Stephen King books, this is how it goes. All the things in (parenthesis) are a person's thought(s). I think the thoughts are a good way of getting into the person's head and true feelings. Many times the thought interrupts a sentence because it is in the middle of a certain action that the character thinks the thought(s). The thoughts also don't have any grammar or punctuation, only except is the ' s, because your thoughts are free and don't have the limitations of the correct language. Your thoughts are not in paragraphs or chapters. They are sounds more so than words on paper. The thoughts are confusing without the periods, but I'm sure you can guess. AND sometimes the thoughts go into what he's/she's saying. You may have to go back and read the sentence skipping the parenthesis after. Though, I suggest reading the thoughts of the characters. For example,  
  
"The woman ran (OH MY GOD OH MY GOD no no no i can't die it's too soon for me to die oh my god) away from the huge, black dog."  
  
Once you read a couple examples of the thoughts you'll probably understand what I'm talking about if you don't already. If you do not understand, e- mail me at Nauthiz13@yahoo.com with your question.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Harry Potter stood on the lonely street of Godric's Hallow. His jet-black hair reflected the streetlights, while he's eyes reflected the moonlight. It was midnight and the stars were clear and shown though the cloudy sky. He was looking (this is it) at a cleared away piece of lot. There was nothing too special looking about it. The ground was flat and covered in dirt. Though it was only cleared away a week before, weeds were already sprouting up. This dull looking lot wouldn't have been much importance to Harry, but it was the lot that Harry was having his new house built. Harry spent a lot of money for it. He wouldn't have if it had not been the place his parents (i never even knew them) had died.  
  
Harry (death) shivered. It was colder than usual at that particular time of year. It was the end of July, his birthday, actually. Harry thought of his eleventh birthday. He smiled at the thought of Hagrid (haven't seen him in a while wonder how he's doing) bursting through the little shack on the rock's door and then giving Dudley a pigtail.  
  
Harry tore his eyes away from the lot to look down the street. A black dog (i told him to stay home why won't people listen to me i'm not aloud to ignore them but they can forget about me all they want damnnit) was approaching him. It was large and its hair was untidy. It looked to be a stray, if it had not had a thin black leather collar (he hates that thing) around its neck. It was walking rather lazily down the sidewalk. It looked tired and strangely old, but muscular.  
  
Harry looked back at the lot with a sigh. The black dog came up to him and sat down, facing the lot also.  
  
"Well," Harry said. "There's going to be our new (home ha like any place is my home i have no) home soon. What do you think?"  
  
The dog looked sadly (i know i know i hate it too) at the lot. That dog was Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and an animagi. He had been convicted of murdering twelve people and one wizard. That wizard, Peter (DAMN HIM) Pettegrew, had been the real murderer and sold Harry's (never knew them) parents to Voldemort, the dark lord. Sirius had escaped the wizard prison Azkban to kill Peter, or nicknamed Wormtail. However, Sirius failed in killing him (why couldn't i just let him be killed) and he was still at large, though only a few people knew. Everyone else thought him to be dead.  
  
After Harry graduated, he got an apartment right away and had his godfather come live with him. The hippogriff, Buckbeck that Sirius had been traveling with, was secretly sent back to Hagrid, but had to have its feathers changed a different color and it was rename Beckbuck. They were very cautious about Sirius transforming into his human form at the apartment and Harry called Sirius Padfoot, his school nickname, so no one would realize it was really Sirius.  
  
Harry sighed. The lot didn't look like too much, (this place shall always be damned) but it would have to do. It was out in the country; it was in a quite, quaint town in a country-side of England. He'd have to go by Floo Powder or train to get to London, Diagon Alley and the Ministry to more precise.  
  
Harry took his eyes away from the lot and started walking (i need some no a lot of sleep) up the street, back the way Sirius had, who soon followed after.  
  
The wind cut through his robes and (death) chilled him to the bone. Harry hated it, so he started to think back to his (don't live in the past don't live in the past) childhood, back when he was young, free and innocent.  
  
He finished Hogwarts at age seventeen and was (had to be perfect) Head Boy, only after being a Prefect for the two years before. Hermione, an old (so smart so beautiful why the fuck did i let you go) friend, had the same fate. Ron (don't kill yourself) got on the Gryffindor Quidditich Team in their fifth year and got to be team captain the rest. Most of his other Gryffindor classmates (they're doing so well) were ether Ministry workers or was a house wife/husband with a spouse that was a Ministry worker. That was what happened to most students in Harry's year. Half became Ministry workers. The other half became Death (you bastards) Eaters, mainly the Slytherins and a small bulk (traitors) of Ravenclaws.  
  
And so a new (death and pain) generation was caught up in the old rivalries and battles, the Dark (voldemort) Lord against the Ministry. History once again was repeating itself. The Ministry, after Cornelius Fudge (FUCK YOU) was no longer Minister of Magic, was finally coaxed to ask for help from other allied Ministries in other countries. Many agreed, though most only out of fear (not america it is strong and fierce they fear no one no one whether it's from ignorance or wisdom they shall stand by us no matter what too many muggles and everyone likes muggles there they can have no power there if there are no muggle-haters) that Dark Lord's influence would spread into their country. Harry himself was an (don't end up like moody) Auror, a (death eater) Dark Wizard Catcher. He was getting quiet a reputation, not that he didn't (damn scar) have one already. He had proven his old rival, Draco (dumbass) Malfoy, was a Death Eater; however, Draco was a powerful wizard who easily escaped (how the hell) and has gone into hiding. Harry was the one many looked to, to (too much pressure) make things right. After all, he had done so before, why not again?  
  
Harry made it to the (it's too hard how the hell am i supposed to defeat Voldemort when i can barely remember the first time let alone how i did defeat him) street corner. Sirius walked up to his side, only he was in his (what the fuck) human form.  
  
"What are you doing?" Harry asked "You want to get (please god no) caught?"  
  
Sirius did not answer.  
  
"A little more (a lot more) caution from you wouldn't hurt."  
  
Sirius gave him a side ways glance (he knew) and (he knows something is troubling me) formed back into a (thank you) dog.  
  
Harry put a hand on Sirius's (fur's too tangled needs to brush his fur) back. Harry then disaparated into the night's air, leaving Godric's Hallow to be motionless and still once more. 


	2. Hider

My Goddess  
  
Potter, Potter  
  
Chapter Two:  
  
Summery: Harry's twenty-three and living in a world where the Dark Lord is gaining power. Things have changed over the years for better and for worst. Harry is now looked to by many people to defeat the Dark Lord once more. Will he once again bring peace to the Magic World? Or will something, or someone, get in his way?  
  
I FOUND A QUOTE FOR THE STORY!!!:  
  
"I'm not supposed to be scared of anything,  
  
But I don't know where I am.  
  
I wish that I could move but I'm exhausted,  
  
And nobody understands (how I feel).  
  
I'm trying hard to breathe now,  
  
But there's no air in my lungs.  
  
There's no one here to talk to,  
  
And the pain inside is making me numb.  
  
I try to hold this under control,  
  
They can't help me 'cause no one knows."  
  
-3 Doors Down  
  
A/N: I got some feed back and, apparently, it ain't that bad, little too much on the thoughts, but good. I haven't really tried the stories where the people think a lot. It's just. too thoughtful? I find that when the main character thinks a lot, it gets boring. Or things tend to get repeated. However, I'm doing my best to not make it dull, boring, or slow (though it took a whole chapter for Harry to look at a stupid, empty lot and walk away). Bear with me please!!!  
  
P.S. If you think there are too many thoughts or thinking, review and tell me! It ain't gonna change if you don't tell me what needs work or what you don't like about. PLEASE TELL ME!!! If you flame, at least be honest and not sound like a jerky bastard that drools a lot and doesn't know the difference between a cow and pencil. And if you actually are like that (O.O.), and you know who you are, LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T WANT TO FEEL LIKE FLY PAPER FOR DUMBASSES!!! (My school actually happens to be one, believe it or not.)  
  
~~~~~  
  
The fire light (it burns) reflected off of Draco's cold, emotionless, steel-gray eyes. Though the fire place gave much warmth in the room, Draco still felt cold. He sat on the hearth, only inches away from it. Draco's eyes left the fire place and strayed away to the rest of the (what the fuck is that smell) room. It was bare and empty. Only a small bathroom, closet and bed (stone hard i haven't slept in days because the bed feels like a table maybe i'll sleep on the floor tonight i'd probably have more luck) was in the room besides the fireplace.  
  
Sounds of cars and yelling and laughter echoed softly from outside. Draco hid in the only place he figured no one would look for him, a muggle city. He had to go into hiding because he was found guilty (damn you potter) for killing innocent people; he was innocent. Of all the things that he had done (that guy at the muggle gas station cause i needed money the guy at the ministry what was his name oliver something oh yes wood that gryff quidditch captian what'd he do secretary for some minister worker i s'pose has to be more my mind has been swiped the last couple weeks damnnit), he had been convicted of a crime he hadn't even done.  
  
As Draco was looking back to the fire, there was a knock (who the fuck) on the door. Draco did not move and the knocking paused. The knocking started (goddamnnit go away) once more.  
  
"Open the fucking door, you bastard." A woman's (haven) came through the closed door.  
  
Draco jumped up and hurried over (don't leave don't leave) to the door. Just as she started to knock once more, Draco swung open the door.  
  
Haven stood at the door, rather surprised the door had opened so quickly. However, her surprised look turned to anger. "Why the hell didn't you open the door (sorry)? I was about to break down the door."  
  
"Didn't feel like getting up." Draco said smiling.  
  
"Lazy ass." Haven muttered under her breath.  
  
Draco walked back over and sat down, only this time he wasn't so close and he leaned back onto the bottom of the bed.  
  
Haven closed the door. She cursed under her breath at the heat in the room. She started to take of her robe and Draco smiled. Draco knew that the fire was so large not only because he was cold, because he wanted Haven to take off (yeah yeah you're a pervert) her robe. She was hot; he and she knew that, though Haven did not act smutty. Call her a slut, she wouldn't just kill you, she would torture you until you killed yourself. She a special gift for keeping people alive and hurting, whether it was physically or mentally. Sure, he'd fuck her.  
  
Haven sat down (yes) next to Draco. "What's going on with the magic world?" Draco asked.  
  
Haven laughed flatly. "Nothing really: people dying, people hating, people getting caught, people getting revenge." Haven paused, and then continued. "However, the missionary from neighboring countries and ministries have started to arrive."  
  
Draco laughed. "What's to worry about? Those bastards are stupider than those Aurors, that's saying something."  
  
"Perhaps," Haven nodded. "But they're not what I'm worried about, it's the Americans."  
  
"What (ha americans) about the Americans?" Draco asked lazily.  
  
"They aren't all they seem. They aren't very fateful to the rule book. They can bend the rules to breaking point and get away with it. Their missionaries are also known for being powerful."  
  
"They're mudblood lovers and very few are pure." Draco laughed. "What makes them powerful?"  
  
"I don't know." Haven said, looking into the fire.  
  
Draco shifted his shoulders uncomfortably; Haven was never wrong (i've never met an american how can they be as powerful as she insinuates) about these things.  
  
"I think you'll have to come out of hiding, Draco." She said. "I think the Dark Lord will need all the he can get." 


End file.
